A Lie or Just a Riddle?
by SinfulFox
Summary: A chance encounter drops a gorgeous, charismatic blonde right into the lap of one unsuspecting Edward Nygma! Sometimes things are too good to be true... and unfortunately for Ed, she's a seductress and serial killer working for Sal Maroni. Will Edward remain trapped within her venomous web, or will he cut himself free? More importantly, does he want to? [Nygma/OC]
1. The Stray Sheep

**A LIE OR JUST A RIDDLE?**  
 _Chapter 1: The Stray Sheep  
_

* * *

"Honesty is the key to a relationship.  
If you can fake that, you're in."

Richard Jeni

* * *

Edward Nygma adjusted the knot of his tie for possibly the hundredth time before returning to the compulsive tapping of his lucky lab pencil against the table. The diner's joyful buzz surrounded him, completely indifferent to his anxious behavior and sinking stomach, and again he flicked out from his pocket the note he had received earlier that day.

 _"I'd love to get to know you better ;)_  
 _Let's meet at the Stray Sheep, 9pm!"_

There was no name on the note, no clue he could find that may indicate who had sent it, and yet he'd examined it and stared at it ever since he'd found it on his desk. At first he wondered if it was sent to the wrong place, since no one in the Gotham City Police Department seemed even remotely interested in knowing him at all. But there was something in him, that inexplicable burst of optimism and maybe even naïvety, which made him want to believe there was a soul out there in the vast world who would describe him as anything other than annoying or weird. But as the time ticked by, the dark and cruel little voice in the back of his head was growing louder - and _meaner_.

He checked his watch once more - **9:34** \- and began to frown. Even his innocent optimism had a limit, and his cruel mind started to suggest that perhaps this was intentional, some kind of twisted joke to play on the gullible, strange, awkward, nerdy, irritating forensic analyst, and somewhere out there tonight was a room flooded with testosterone, laughter, and junk food as uniforms laughed and placed bets on how long Nygma would wait for his anonymous admirer.

What began as excitement had turned into dread and anxiety and anger within his throat and he suddenly crumpled the note within his hand and shoved it back into his pocket before standing up. With a deep breath, he turned and started towards the exit of the small bar and grill, passing a young blonde female at the bar on his way.

"A-are you sure? He said he'd meet me here-"

Edward paused as he overheard her pleas to the bartender, slowly turning around as he listened.

"Nah miss, sorry, I haven't seen him for a few weeks." The bartender shrugged his shoulders. "This wouldn't be the first time he ditched a date though. Don't take it personal."

"Son of a bitch," she muttered with an angry hiss, pursing her lips together and fidgeting with the hem of her white-lace mini dress before turning around to leave. However, she came face to face with the tall, slender, bispeckled male and stopped, a bit surprised by his dead stare.

As if someone was frantically whispering instructions into his ear, Edward suddenly realized he had been staring and blinked his wide eyes like a deer caught in the headlights. "O-oh, pardon me," he said with an overly chipper tone, "I uh, just heard you were stood up on a date?"

The blonde watched him curiously, but didn't immediately dismiss him - something he wasn't used to. Her lashes fluttered over sapphire blue hues as she rolled her eyes. "Heh, yeah, apparently... I know, pretty lame, right?" With a polite attempt of a smile, she continued past him, but after darting his eyes around in quick thought, he piped up again.

"I was supposed to meet someone, too!"

Again she stopped and slowly turned on her white heels to glance over at him, her eyes narrowing as if to try and read his mind. "Oh, well... I'm sorry about that."

"You obviously went through a lot of effort to look nice!" His words seemed to bubble out as if he couldn't control himself, and even he wasn't sure what kind of slippery slope he was running full-speed towards. Perhaps it was a deep sense of longing he felt for some kind of connection - _any kind_ \- especially after letting himself get his hopes up for something this evening. "I just, well, I mean..." _Uh oh,_ his conscious thinking was causing him to stumble over himself now.

It didn't seem to matter, though, as a subtle but coy smirk spread across the blonde's face, her golden yellow curls bouncing around her softly featured face as she fully turned to him and nodded. "Of course. We're both date-ready it seems, and we both deserve a nice time, right?"

He nearly choked on whatever words he considered replying with... not that he was expecting rejection, but he wasn't expecting such an immediate acceptance either. Actually, he had no idea what to expect. He was already completely out of his element, but he didn't want this gorgeous stranger to suffer the same darkness he had started to feel. That bitterness of leaving somewhere empty-handed and alone. Maybe he could at least entertain her for a short while before they parted ways.

"Well, I guess we should grab a table then~" She spoke with such a gentle and feminine voice, he couldn't help but feel suspicious. Was she being sarcastic? Snarky? "Oh, I'm Catherine by the way!" With a perky smile, she reached out her hand. Now that the shock of his own spontaneity had died down, he was suddenly able to appreciate her friendliness and returned her smile, taking her hand.

"Edward Nygma, it's a pleasure to meet you!"

"So old-school formal!" She laughed quietly as she moved toward the table Edward had been waiting at before. "Wait, this is the table you were at, right? I remember seeing you now when I first came in."

Not sure exactly how to respond, he bit his lower lip before spitting out a riddle. "What starts with the letter 'e', ends with the letter 'e', and contains one letter?"

She stopped for a moment, giving him a confused look as she slowly sat down across from his chair. "A riddle...?"

"Do you... like riddles?" He asked sheepishly, sitting down and staring at her with wide, hopeful eyes.

"I think," she said with a giggle, "let's see if I can solve this one, then I'll tell ya if I like 'em or not~" Her lips pouted as she thought, resting her elbow on the table to rest her chin against the back of her hand. "Uh, well it's obviously not the letter 'e'... but how can a word have just one- unless you mean- oh! Like a-!" Her face brightened up as she snapped her fingers and pointed to him. "An envelope!"

His own eyes brightened at her answer. "Correct!" With a flick of his wrist, he pulled out the anonymous note and handed it to her. "I found this in an envelope on my desk earlier today."

"Hmm?" Curiously, she took the note and unfolded it. "Huh, strange. And they never showed?"

"Nope." To his surprise however, he now hardly felt the bitterness from just moments ago. "So when I heard you were supposed to meet someone here as well-"

"You thought it was too odd for a coincidence?"

He smiled. "You read my mind."

"Nah, I would have thought the same, too." With a frown, she handed the note back to him. "But I didn't come here from a note, I went on a first date with this guy who seemed alright. I wasn't terribly interested but he asked me on a second date, surprisingly, so I guess I just wanted to see where it would go."

"Why was that surprising?" Edward asked, narrowing his eyes as he leaned forward.

She blinked with widened eyes, then chuckled softly and glanced to the side. "Heh, well... uh, you know how guys are, they usually ask me out expecting... something else, ya know?"

His stare turned rather blank as he watched her, finding himself just expecting a follow-up statement but she seemed to leave it at that. "Wait, what were they expecting?"

Her cheeks turned a light red as she looked back to him, trying to figure out if he was serious. "Wh-what do you mean, you really don't get it?!" His expression remained a combination of blank and confused, and after a moment she realized how innocent-minded he must be. Even if he was gay, he should have been able to understand what she was getting at. "I like to dress up and look nice when I go out," she muttered with a quiet sigh, "so I guess that makes guys think I'm easy or whatever. I'm always asked out on first dates, but then they see I'm more than a one-night gig and they move on."

"One-night gig... oh!" His lightbulb cut on finally. "So they ask you out expecting a casual sex partner."

His blunt statement caught her off guard, causing her to snort as she stifled her laugh. "Oh my god, yes Edward, exactly."

"Well if that's the case, it's their loss. There's nothing wrong about a lady with class."

Her blush remained as she stared at him now. "Thanks... I mean, glad to know some people can still appreciate it." Gently biting her lip, she suddenly grinned and perked up. "Alive without breath and cold as death, never thirsty but always drinking, all in mail but never clinking... what am I?"

It was his turn to blush slightly, but his brain buzzed with the excitement of a new and unexpected puzzle. "Oh, uh... alive without breath, cold as death..." His eyes lowered to the table as they darted around, and she could almost see the little gears in his head working overtime - it was pretty amusing to watch. "A fish!"

"Bingo!" She chanted with a playful wink. "I was hoping you hadn't heard that one."

"Actually I don't think I have." His smile faded as his expression transitioned from happy to slightly concerned. "Are you the opposite of a fish?"

"Uh... what?" Her brow furrowed in confusion for a second until it clicked. "Oh! Am I thirsty and not drinking?" Again she snorted before breaking out into laughter. "Opposite of a fish, you could have just asked if I wanted a drink~" As her laugh faded, she gave him another wink. "You know, you're pretty interesting. Whoever wrote that note is certainly missing out."

His blush returned with a vengeance and he shifted nervously in his seat before jumping up. "Wh-what would you like to drink, Miss Catherine?"

"Uh, just water would be fine!" He quickly disappeared before she could tell him to drop the 'Miss', but he seemed to return just as quickly as he'd left, with two tall glasses of ice water. "Thank you so much!"

"Not a problem!"

"So, Mister Nygma~ what is it that you do?" Catherine asked as she sipped on her glass, leaving a faint red smudge of lipstick on the edge.

"Oh, I'm a forensic analyst for the GCPD," he said quickly with a growing lump in his throat. _Yes, finally find a friend and tell her all about the dead bodies you giggle over during the day._ "I uh, examine crime scenes and collect evidence-"

"No way!" She blurted out, her eyes bright and sparkling. "You don't... get to analyze dead bodies and stuff, do you?"

Her sudden interest and enthusiasm caught him off guard yet again. This girl was full of surprises, it seemed. "...Yes," he answered reluctantly, unsure of her reaction and at this point was afraid of scaring her off.

"Whoa~ geez, that can't be easy to do every day, no wonder you have such a sense of humor!"

"Y-Yeah, I..." He paused for a moment, a wide smile spreading across his lips as he chuckled. "I always say it's important to have a good sense of humor!"

"I got you, I got you," she jested, pointing from her eyes to his with a smirk. "I'm afraid I don't do anything nearly as interesting, I work at a dance studio and sometimes catch a modeling gig here and there but that's really about it."

"I disagree, I think that's very interesting!"

"Heh, really?"

Once their conversation began to really roll, it didn't seem to stop, and the minutes turned into hours. People came and left all around them, staff passed to bring more drinks or to clear off the other tables, but neither really noticed. They bubbled up with riddles and jokes and Edward had Catherine choking on her water with laughter; he couldn't remember having so much fun with another person. The only time they really stopped was when the bartender came over to let them know it was closing time.

"Oh shit, seriously?" Catherine asked with a chuckle, checking the time on her phone.

"Oh dear," Edward stared at his watch in disbelief, wondering how in the world it was already 1 am, "I didn't intend to keep you out so late!"

"No no, don't worry, it was great! I really had fun tonight." Gathering her purse, she stood up and he quickly did the same.

"I did, too! You're a pretty amazing person, Miss Catherine."

With a snicker, she grinned and motioned for him to come closer, and he complied with curiosity. "You're pretty amazing yourself, Ed~" she spoke softly with a flutter of her lashes, and was quickly entertained by his flustered reaction. "You know what? Here~" She reached into her purse and pulled out a notepad and a pen, ripping off a sheet of paper. "Here's my cell," she said, jotting down her phone number and giving it to him, "maybe we can meet up again sometime? I promise I'll actually show up!"

His cheeks reddened as he took the note from her, and he couldn't contain his ear-to-ear grin. "Of course! Maybe we can go for lunch during the day?"

"Sounds good!"

"Alrighty," he chirped, carefully putting her note into his pocket, "I guess tonight started and ended with a note. Isn't that funny?"

"In a strange way, I suppose it is~" She yawned quietly, then jumped forward to give him a hug - once more catching him completely off guard. "Well, goodnight, Ed! Hope to hear from you soon, okay?"

They left the diner and parted ways only after a hundred assurances from Catherine that she could get home on her own. Her white heels clicked against the sidewalk as she walked alone in the darkness, and after a couple blocks she pulled out her phone and scrolled through her contacts before dialing out and putting the phone to her ear.

"Ahaaaaa~!" An older male cackled excitedly on the other side. "Catherine you gorgeous demon, tell me you've done it again!"

"It's a pretty done deal," she spoke, her soft gentle charm gone and replaced with a cold, smooth voice. "Got him hook, line, and sinker. Told you the note would work."

"Alright, that's my girl! But why are you gone so early, didn't go back to his place?"

"Ugh, he's not the type at all. Trust me, this guy is more desperate for general human interaction than sex. He'll be a work in progress but the night went perfectly."

"Well if you're sure about that, I need you to tell me you definitely got him in the bag."

"Oh I do, Mister Maroni~ Poor little Edward doesn't know what he's gotten into."

"No he doesn't, does he? Old Falcone won't see this coming either. It's time someone else also had some good leverage in the GCPD."

"I agree, sir," she said with a dark grin, "and you can count on me to get you that leverage."

* * *

"A little, just a little; a lie or just a riddle?  
Appeal I feel, but only if it's real!"

Ashe, _1925_

* * *

 **a/n; I really wanted to write this for a long time... xD I really freaking adore Edward, especially now that he gets more screentime! And oh man, I just really want someone to give him at least a little bit of the attention he deserves! D; ... even if it's done with extremely bad intentions... xD**

 **I adore Catherine though and she's heavily based on a succubus and main character of the 2011 Atlus game, _Catherine_. It's a Japanese horror puzzle game, and hey, Edward does like puzzles AND video games so... . it works. IT WORKS. (if only in my head?)**

 **Any reviews and critiques are always welcome and adored! Let me know what you think of the characters and the concepts/ideas and all that! :3 I love the feedback! (and also for those of you following my other Gotham fic, _Unbound_ , this is an entirely separate story and YES I'm still working on _Unbound_ xD)**


	2. Nygma Has a Date!

**A LIE OR JUST A RIDDLE?**  
 _Chapter 2: Nygma Has a Date?!_

* * *

"Woman is at once serpent and apple."

Heinrich Heine

* * *

Detective Harvey Bullock groaned as he stuffed the last bite of his burger into his mouth, leaning over the bloodied corpse in the alleyway. "Whadda we got, Nygma?"

The lanky, well-groomed crime scene analyst grinned to himself as he crouched over the body, adjusting his glasses as he more closely inspected an open wound on the deceased's neck. "Definitely looks like homicide," he nearly said with a giggle, and could almost hear the sound of Bullock's eyes rolling.

"No shit, smartass. Come on, it's gonna be dark soon. I've got places to be."

"Multiple stab wounds to the torso," he spoke, his grin remaining, "light ligature marks on the wrists, minor bruising on the arms and legs."

"Jesus, must've really pissed someone off."

"Perhaps. But the marks, Detective..." Edward Nygma carefully slid his pen under the dead man's wrist and lifted it up for Bullock to get a closer look. "He was restrained, but these marks would be much more prominent if they had been tight enough to actually _restrain_ him. They must have been relatively loose."

"Then why the hell didn't he get away?"

"I'm afraid that's not my part of the job," he quipped happily before gesturing to the neck wound, "however I think _this_ is very important."

With another groan, Bullock leaned over to look. In the side of the body's neck was a large, bloody gaping hole in the shape of a circle - very much unlike the rest of the stab wounds across the chest and abdomen. "Yeah, Ed, it looks pretty damn significant."

"Do you know what's so strange about it, Detective?"

" _Oh my god_ , please inform me. Other than being a goddamn _hole_ in a man's _neck_ , why is it strange?"

"Because it was inflicted _postmortem_!" He glanced up to Bullock, his wide brown eyes gleaming with childish wonder, his face beaming with morbid delight. "Isn't that just fascinating?"

The detective stared at the quirky analyst for a long moment, his brows furrowing. "Something's wrong with you. _Really_." Grabbing the brown overcoat that was draped over his arm, he held it up and quickly stuffed his arms into the sleeves as the first chills of the evening rustled through the Gotham streets. "Anyways, let's wrap this up quickly. If you stay late again, you can give me the detailed report in the mor-"

"Oh, no can do," Edward said as he stood up, clamping his notebook shut with a soft thud, "I've got something to do tonight."

"Wh- ... wait, what?"

"Sorry, Detective, I have plans." He spoke matter-of-factly and dropped the small notebook into his pocket. "But no worries! I'll get to work on the report first thing in the morning."

"No no no, what do you _mean_ , you have plans? You never have plans. What plans do you have?"

Like a deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming truck, Edward froze, staring at Detective Bullock's aggressively curious leer, unsure of whether he should reveal the truth. But he was quite excited, and an exciting secret was one of the hardest to keep. "If you really insist on knowing, I have a date."

A full range of emotions danced across the detective's face, his features twisting and contorting as if they couldn't decide which expression to form. "A date? A _date_. Like with a woman. A _date_ with a _woman_." _  
_

Edward could no longer hold back his grin - he rarely could. "Yes, with a woman. So I'm afraid I can't stay late tonight." He turned to walk away, leaving the rest of the forensics department to finish their roles in collecting and photographing evidence. However, Bullock quickly followed after him.

"So, Ed, when you say a _date_..."

* * *

Even though it was nearly the end of the day, the GCPD station was buzzing with detectives, officers, and secretaries. Detectives Bullock and Gordon shuffled through the last of their paperwork before stuffing it into their bag and packing up for the day.

"Ugh, that was one messy homicide," Bullock groaned as they headed through the pit, towards the main doors.

"Tell me about it. I don't think it was the first one, either."

"Whoa whoa, Jimbo, what's that mean?"

"I'm saying, whoever killed that guy knew what they were doing. The mess seemed... intentional."

"Maybe they were try'na send a message?"

"I dunno."

"Maybe they-" The detective abruptly stopped as he watched a young blonde woman walk through the station doors, in a crimson red mini dress that more than accentuated her feminine form, her black heels shaping her long and slender legs as they clicked against the ground. _"Holy shit."_ Gordon noticed her as well, but was more focused on watching Bullock watch her - like some kind of predator checking out his next meal, just... in a less cannibalistic way.

"Whoa, excuse me there, sweetheart," he chimed in, stopping the blonde as she passed, "may I have the pleasure of helping you?" Bullock narrowed his sights on the female in front of him, completely ignoring the sound of a thousand sneers coming from his partner.

"Oh! You two must be detectives here, right?" She asked in a soft, perky voice. As she stood, she gently swayed her hips from side to side, her fingers playing with the lace trim at her thigh. "That must be _totally_ exciting. I bet you're working a super important case!"

Bullock let out a cocky laugh, shrugging his shoulders casually. "Can't say it's an easy job, but it does have its rewards. Baby, we've always got an important case to solve, but I'd set aside some time for you. What brings you this way?"

"My my, you're quite the ham, Detective!" Her soft yellow curls bounced as she giggled and winked playfully. "Actually, I'm meeting someone here."

"Oh is that so? Please inform me of the lucky bastard that gets to meet with you tonight."

"His name is..." Her voice trailed off as her sapphire gaze focused just over his shoulder; her eyes suddenly widened and her glossy pink lips exploded into a grin. "Edward!" She ran past a dumbfounded Bullock as she saw the analyst approaching, her heels clacking against the floor as she laughed and greeted him with a tight hug.

Jim Gordon didn't smile at work often, but this was a very special occasion. He couldn't have held back his grin if his life depended on it. Bullock eyed him with a silent warning, yet Gordon dared a chuckle. "Well, you can't be _everyone's_ type."

Bullock held back a grimace as the unlikely pair reached them. "So Ed, uh... _this_ is your date."

She giggled again, her arms wrapping around his as they walked. "Oh so you _do_ talk about me at work!"

"I told Detective Bullock we had a date scheduled, yes, but I'm afraid I haven't had the chance to elaborate. Detectives, this is Catherine. Catherine, Detectives Harvey Bullock and Jim Gordon." He didn't get the chance to introduce people very much, and did so with great enthusiasm and appropriate hand gestures.

Gordon nodded politely. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Catherine." She gave a sweet smile and returned the formalities.

A strange, confused whine came from Bullock as he held his lips tight, as if afraid to say something impulsively. Yet the impulse obviously didn't subside, and he continued to resist. His arms crossed for a brief moment, before his arm raised, pressing his knuckles against his mouth. Something didn't add up from the two entirely mismatched people before him, and it didn't sit well. Someone like Edward Nygma wouldn't suddenly obtain someone like her, all out of the blue like this. Who the hell was she, and where the hell did she even come from? And what the hell was she up to? _She had to be up to something_.

"So..." Gordon continued, his grin continuing to grow as he relished this odd moment, sneaking a glance at Bullock who was still acting like a jealous and confused little kid. "Where are you two headed tonight?"

Catherine went to speak, but Edward jumped in first. "Actually! I have, uh... managed to get a reservation at The Volcano."

Her bright blue eyes widened as she suddenly let out a squeal. " _The Volcano?! Really?!_ That's like the most popular restaurant in Gotham, the wait list is like six months!"

"Wow, that's a pretty big score," Gordon spoke with a raised brow, "even I'm impressed. Well, you two have a lovely night."

Edward gave an energetic thank you as Catherine squirmed, her grip tightening on his arm. "I can't believe you got us into The Volcano! Oh! We should hurry! I wanna sit by one of those steam geysers!"

"Good idea!" he replied with equal enthusiasm and they both seemed to flutter towards the doors. "Did you know the steam can reach up to 200 degrees Fahrenheit?"

"No way! Can they do that?!"

As they disappeared from the station, Gordon finally let out the laugh he'd been holding in and turned to Bullock. "I've never seen _anything_ get you so quiet."

Bullock's mouth opened as he began to shake his head. "Nuh uh... no way. She's up to something. There's no way."

"Come on, Harvey. They say there's someone out there for everyone, right?"

"Yeah, but-! She... _ah_. Jim, I'm telling you. There's something weird going on here."

* * *

Gentle fingertips slowly traced the edge of her wine glass as Catherine watched the artificial geyser only a few feet from their table. Edward's eyes were glued to his watch, his fingers drumming to the second-hand's rhythm. "Five seconds~" he cooed before glancing up to the geyser, and she straightened up in her seat, her hands freezing in place. After a moment, the device rumbled softly before suddenly erupting with steam. She gave a slight jump and laughed, and he grinned with amusement.

"Wow, that was louder than I thought it would be!"

"Well now we've got 45 minutes to look forward to the next burst."

"Ooh, we'll be in the middle of eating then! Don't let me forget about it, I might choke on my food."

He looked down and clicked a few buttons on the side of his watch. "Done and... done! I set an alarm to give us a minute's warning."

"Awesome!" She smiled and nibbled on a chip from the nearly empty appetizer basket. "Man, I hope the food is ready soon, I'm starving."

"Oh, speaking of hungry!" He shifted excitedly in his seat, adjusting his glasses. "Have you figured out my riddle yet?"

"Hmm? Oh yeah..." Sitting back in her chair, she crossed her arms, her pink fingernails drumming against her skin. "So... the man can only bring one thing with him on the boat, right?"

"Yep!"

"Then... alright, the man first takes the goat across the river to the other side. Then he goes back and gets the... wolf?" She frowned. "But... then the wolf would eat the goat when he left to get the lettuce."

"Do you finally give up?"

"No! I feel like the answer is really simple, I just have to... oh! Wait! Okay, okay... what if he takes the goat across, then comes back and gets the wolf and takes it over. But before leaving, he puts the goat back on the boat, goes back to the first side, leaves the goat and takes the lettuce back to Side B, then goes back for the goat at the end!"

"Correct!" He said with a wide smile, nearly jumping out of his seat. "You're the first one to get that right!"

Her brow furrowed. "Well I can see why, that was complicated~"

"Do you... do you wanna hear another one?" He asked, with widened and playful eyes.

"Sure," she said with a giggle, "I'll solve that one, too!"

* * *

Again they seemed to chat away the time, each minute of their evening full of giggles and conversation and riddles. They discussed Edward's latest cases and Catherine's favorite video games and their psychological analysis of Disney villains, all the while eating and drinking and obsessing over the time of the next geyser burst. Ed had never been able to speak so freely and effortlessly with someone for this long of a time before, and he was enjoying every moment of it, especially because she seemed to be enjoying herself just as much. She had such high energy and passion and excitement about whatever she was talking about, and it only encouraged him to feel equally passionate about whatever topic they discussed - he had grown so used to stifling the excitement in his voice, but he didn't have to apologize for getting so hyper over a particularly gruesome murder case or the fact that bananas were technically berries. Not when he was with Catherine.

Much to his dismay, however, it was suddenly midnight and the five-star restaurant - already having been closed for an hour - was starting to ask lingering patrons to finish, pay, and leave.

"Well, I had a wonderful evening, Miss Catherine!" He said with a grin as they stood outside, below the restaurant's neon sign.

"Ed~ how many times do I gotta tell you?"

"Sorry! _Catherine_. Just Catherine... no Miss."

Her playfully pouted lips broke into a smile. "Better. But yes, I had a fantastic time! But, you know~" She blinked for a moment, her smile curving into a coy smirk, her voice getting ever so slightly quieter. "It doesn't _have_ to end just yet."

He gave her a curious look, his head tilting to the side like a puppy. "But... the restaurant closed. I don't know anywhere else that's still open."

With a soft giggle, she fluttered her lashes and took a step closer to him. "Hehe, silly~ I mean... maybe we could both go back to your place~"

"Oh! Maybe another time, I've got some confidential files from work annnnnnnnd" - he paused to playfully poke her nose, blissfully unaware of how close she'd become - "I'd hate for you to accidentally see something you shouldn't!"

"Hmm? Like what, you'd have to kill me?" She asked with a wink.

"Well... no, but I'd get in a lot of trouble."

Swaying ever closer, her fingers began to dance lightly up the side of his arm. "We wouldn't have to tell anyone~"

"Oh no, I'm horrible at keeping secrets. I mean, I just crack under pressure, you know?"

"I'm sure we could find a kind of **pressure** you _wouldn't_ crack under~"

He stared at her for a moment, with those wide innocent eyes and that wide oblivious grin. "You _really_ wanna know more about these investigations! You know, you should look into becoming a CSI if you're so interested!" He continued on with great enthusiasm and didn't notice at all when Catherine sighed and slumped her shoulders in total defeat. She'd never met anyone so blind to her advances and innuendo, but strangely enough it only drew her in more.

"Alright, alright~" She waved her hand back and forth. "If not your place, what about mine?"

"I do have to get up early to finish a report, by the time we went there and I got back home, I'd-"

"Fine, fine~ I guess we should both get a full night's rest, right?"

"Exactly! But maybe we could do lunch tomorrow, or dinner again - or a movie!"

Catherine gave up on her overly flirtatious behavior and simply smiled and gave a nod. "Any of those sound great! Just call me and we'll work something out, mmkay?"

He nodded back. "Alright!"

* * *

With a sigh, Catherine pushed open her front door and set her keys on a small white desk, taking a minute to pull off her heels before floating towards the kitchen for a drink. Flicking on the light, she nearly jumped as she saw Maroni at the table, calmly pouring himself another glass of wine.

"Catherine, you're home fairly early," he said, smiling and taking a sip.

Her fingers silently pressed against her thigh, feeling the edge of the dagger she'd hidden just under her short dress, making sure it was in place in case she'd need it. After the surprise wore off, she put on a fake smile. "Well it's a good thing too, apparently, or else you'd have drank all my alcohol."

He laughed. "Nah, just the good stuff. You always keep yourself stocked."

"It goes fast when you're constantly sending horny dipshits my way~"

"Oh you find plenty of them yourself, kitty cat." He chuckled again before taking another sip. "Which, by the way what do you do with them? The uh, the bodies. I mean you kill them here, right? And I couldn't find a _single_ drop of blood or nothin' anywhere! Seriously, babe, how do you do it?"

Her muscles tensed, but she slowly inhaled and exhaled to keep her instincts calmed. She knew what he was doing, he'd come here to try and find incriminating evidence against her, proof of her extracurricular activity that he could hold above her head in case she failed. "What do you want, Maroni?"

He gestured to the empty chair across from him at the table, placing a clean wine glass at the unoccupied spot. Against her better judgment, she walked over and took a seat... not that she had much of a choice. With a smile, he poured her a glass. "So, tell me about your new friend."

"Edward isn't driven by much. Not lust, money, power... none of that."

"Pffft, surely he's after somethin'."

"Not at all," she said with a sigh. "Trust me, of all the sleazebags you've had me court, he's... he's different. He's kind and a little quirky and honest and just wants to use his abilities to help others. He's a terrible candidate, who the fuck even narrowed in on this guy?"

"We don't always get the perfect sleazebag, Catherine, but he's the only analyst in the department. He's got access to everything we could ever need - records, evidence. We need something on him, we need that access."

She groaned and took a long sip of her wine as he spoke. "Well, there's nothing on him. He's a pure-hearted little nerd who just wants... someone. He's just lonely."

"Not anymore, he's got you right?" Maroni chuckled with a wink.

"Look, I've met my fair share of 'lonely' guys. I think every damn skeleton in my closet referred to himself as _lonely_ at some point. He's not looking for sexual gratification, he's honestly just..." Her voice trailed off as her gaze drifted.

"You can't tell me he's not looking for it now though, I mean come on, you're smokin' hot! Have you tried making a move?"

"Of course I have! Short of literally assaulting him, I've tried engaging but he's oblivious-"

"-no one's _that_ oblivious."

"Maroni, sir, in the five years I've been doing this for you, I've never let you down. But this time, I'm telling you. He's not looking for a sexual fling. He wants something real, a real romance, a real relationship."

"Then give him that."

Catherine stopped for a moment, staring at him before slowly shaking her head. "No no no... look, I _seduce_ , I lure them in with whatever I have to flaunt and then you have your leverage or I have my prey trapped. I seduce, I don't do romance."

"You don't do romance?"

"I carve men up and tear them apart, and they're usually alive when I start. Close intimacy with another human being isn't exactly my strong point."

Maroni nodded, shifting his weight in his chair as he shrugged his shoulders. "Alright, alright, fair enough-" **_BAM_**. Before she knew it, his hand was over hers, a slender steak knife slipping right in between her bones and hitting against the table below her hand. A tiny drop of blood began to surface from around the jagged blade and a burning pain shot through her body. Her natural instinct made her want to pull her impaled hand towards her, but he still held a fierce grip on the knife, keeping her pinned to the table.

"Pretty fast reflexes for a big guy, right?" He asked before leaning forward, his smile fading. "Now listen. I need this, and you aren't gonna fuck it up. You're gonna do whatever it takes. Become his ideal woman, frame him for murder, I don't care. But the way I see it, this is twice now you've come back to me empty-handed. Don't strike out again."

"Or what," she hissed through gritted teeth, insistent on retaining her composure despite the extreme pain, "you're gonna kill me? I'm the best weapon you've got, without me you wouldn't have shit on anyone."

"Perhaps," he agreed with a nod, "but you, my dear, as fantastic and gorgeous as you are, are a _tool_ and what do you think I do with a tool when it no longer can serve its purpose?" Slowly he began to twist his wrist, twisting the knife's blade and causing her to buckle and whimper. "Hmm? Am I being clear at all?"

"C-Crystal clear, sir," she spat out, her pinned hand twitching slightly as she winced.

"Good." With a swift movement, he pulled the knife out of her hand and thick red blood bubbled out from the open wound, spilling onto the table and running down her arm. "Now go clean that up, I'd hate for you to get an infection." Dropping the knife on the table next to her, he finished his glass and stood up. "I'll show myself out~" he laughed, rounding the corner and disappearing from sight, and she heard the door open and shut. Once it was quiet, she gasped and hissed in pain, holding her bleeding hand tight against her chest, hoping the pressure would lessen the burning. Her arms began shaking as she forced herself to breathe slowly, and she stood up to go grab her phone, flipping it open and dialing out. After a few rings, a male answered.

"H-Hey, Victor, it's Catherine, I... I need a favor."

* * *

"The coquette knows how to please and not how to love;  
that is why we love her so much."

Pierre de Marivaux

* * *

 **a/n;** **Wow, I wasn't expecting such activity right off the bat! xD but I'm glad you thought it was an interesting concept, and hopefully it will get even better! Also, y'all are making some awesome predictions because they're pretty much spot on with what I have planned, especially with Harvey and Miss Kringle! I'll try and keep this updated somewhat regularly? As well as get _Unbound_ back up and running - but I'm also tryna do this with a part-time job and full-time college classes so I apologize in advance if chapter updates get slow... but! As always, I adore feedback so let me know what you think so far! :D**


	3. Beneath the Surface

**A LIE OR JUST A RIDDLE?**  
 _Chapter 3: Beneath the Surface_

* * *

"There are no secrets in life; just hidden truths that lie beneath the surface."

Dexter Morgan

* * *

"Thanks again for coming," Catherine spoke with a wince as the shiny-headed Victor Zsasz sat down across from her at the kitchen table, "I really do appreciate it."

"It's nothing, Barbie," he muttered, his eyes narrowing as he took her punctured hand and examined it, "in fact I was surprised to hear from ya - in a good way, of course!"

"I know, it's been a while~" she cooed, propping up her other elbow on the table to rest her face against the palm of her good hand. "Another reason why I hated to have to call you out of the blue like this."

"Gives us an excuse to chat- oh, hold up, this is gonna hurt."

"What wi- ahhh!" She let out a sudden yelp of pain and dug her fingernails into her cheek as Victor pried open her wounds even further, tearing apart the edges that had started to dry. " _Cock-sucking motherfucking bitch-ass_..."

Her quick mumbling of every naughty word that came to her mind caused him to chuckle. "Always keepin' it classy, eh?"

"Oh shut the hell up, I read an article that said cursing raises your pain tolerance."

"Does it?" He asked with a grin before ripping open the wound on the other side of her hand, and again she shrieked.

"FUCK NO IT STILL HURTS LIKE A FUCKIN' BITCH."

He laughed even louder as he let go of her, reaching over to a box he'd brought with him. "Haha, yeah I bet, and it'll continue to hurt like a bitch. But I gotta freshen it up before I can start stitching you back together."

She ran her free hand through her hair and took a deep breath, her eyes beginning to water. "I swear to every fuckin' god I'm gonna rip his throat out."

"Oh?" His brown eyes glanced up with a morbidly curious gleam. " _And then what_?"

"And... and then I-I..." With another wince, she shut her eyes and looked away as she saw him pull out a needle and long strands of suture material, trying to force the most gruesome and horrific images of physical torment into her mind so that she wouldn't think about the pain she was about to endure. "Fuck, I dunno, I just wanna... you know, inflict copious amounts of injuries."

"Come on," he rolled his eyes as he threaded the needle and grabbed her hand to hold it steady, blood continuing to seep onto his own hand and the table, "you're more descriptive than that. Besides, you start with throat-ripping, you're gonna have a very limited time span to do anything else."

"Ugh, I know, I just... I don't even _know_ what I'd do to him if I got the chance."

He pierced her skin with the needle and she bit her lip to keep from screaming, leaning forward to bury her face against her arm. "There's always a spot for you in my crew, Barbie."

"Yeah," she hissed with a whimper, "but black leather and whips were never really my aesthetic."

"Then come work for Falcone directly. Trust me, he takes care of his assets, and he doesn't get all short-tempered and stab them."

"Would I get health benefits?" Her voice was shaky and weak and quiet, as he slowly but steadily continued to stitch her open wound closed.

"Oh of course, you get dental, health, the works!"

"Damn, maybe it's time to put in my two weeks' notice."

He laughed, pulling the sutures tight and frowning as he watched her shake and tense up, determined not to yell or show just how much pain she was in. "Seriously though, I think you should consider it. I can talk to Falcone, he knows what you've been doing, he could definitely use another seductive assassin."

That last comment left her no choice but to glance up and stare at him as he gave her a goofy grin. "Heh, _funny_ , but... I dunno. Maroni's got a lot of shit on me, it's complicated."

"The fuck is he gonna do? Once you're under Falcone, he's in all kinds of deep shit if he lays a hand on you. Even he's not dumb enough to do that."

"You really don't think he'd come after me? Send anyone after me?"

"Pffft, no chance. You know about Oswald Cobblepot?"

"Who?"

"Exactly, he's practically a nobody. Or, at least he was until he gave his loyalty to Falcone. Acted as a snitch for Maroni for a short time. Maroni found out, tried to kill him, the little rat escaped and told Falcone, and now Maroni won't get anywhere near him. He knows he's as good as dead the moment he does anything."

"Heh, that easy?" Her brow furrowed, her tone skeptical. "He just, left him alone?"

"Yep." Victor gave another sharp tug to the sutures, pulling the separated edges of her skin closer together, and she pressed the back of her other hand against her mouth to keep quiet, though her eyes were swelling with tears. "So I mean... you'd be in good hands" - he suddenly snorted - "uh, no pun intended of course!"

"V-Vic..."

"Maroni's gonna keep bullying you like this, though, if you-"

"Victor..."

"-let him, I mean at this rate he could try and have you ki-"

"FUCK, VICTOR."

"What?!"

"G-get a trash can..."

"Oh shit." Carefully setting down his impromptu surgical supplies, he ran over and grabbed her kitchen trash can and brought it over just in time for her to lean over and throw up into it. With a sigh, he brushed back her hair. "You know, no one would be afraid of serial killers if they saw shit like this."

"Shut- the fuck up-" she muttered between heaves, before finally sitting up and taking a deep breath. "I'm good... thanks."

"You so owe me for this," he grumbled, pushing the trash can away before taking his seat and resuming.

"I know..."

"So what's ol Maroni holding over your head, anyways?"

Catherine turned her head away from him and her bleeding hand, trying to mentally numb the pain. "Video. He's got video footage, some private surveillance camera, the fuckin' thing captured my entire ritual."

"Your killing ritual?"

"Jesus, everything... Everything leading up to the kill, everything afterwards. It's my signature, it'll link up to every body they've found so far. That one video is enough to get me a premium seat in the electric chair."

"Ugh, come on, Catherine, you know they do lethal injection these days."

Pouting her lips, she glanced back to him. "Even worse, I'm terrified of needles!"

"So... you do whatever he tells you to keep him from turning over that video."

"That's how it works, yeah."

"Hmm..." Victor tilted his head in thought as he finished stitching up the palm of her hand. "I still think Falcone _should_ be able to work something out to keep you safe." Using a small pair of surgical scissors, he snipped the suture thread and knotted the ends together to keep everything tight and in place. "Now for the other side~!"

* * *

With a loud smash, a heavy flat-faced hammer collided with the porcelain skull and splattered the white walls with thick red blood.

... well, Edward liked to _imagine_ it was blood, as he loomed over another smashed mannequin head filled with red paint, examining the pattern that had been created on the wall and across the edge of the table from the different angle of impact he'd used.

 _I wonder how sweet little Catherine would feel about this!_

Edward shook his head, lowering his hammer. "This is me doing my job. I told her what I do and she even thought it was interesting."

 _Oh I'm not talking about that, nitwit._ His eyes seemed to caress the crimson mess on the wall. _I'm talking about actual blood. What you wish this was, because paint's not nearly as exciting to spill._

He grimaced, moving the smashed head over to the side before grabbing a brand new one and setting it on the table. "She won't find out about that. No one will."

 _We both know that won't matter. It's going to happen again._ From the side this time, he swiped the hammer, crashing it right against the head's temple and red paint spurted out across the table, floor, and wall. _You keep acting like everything will be fine if no one finds out you stabbed a police officer-_

"Stop it."

 _-dismembered his body-_

"Stop!"

 _-and bathed him in acid until he was nothing but bone!_

His eyes were full of fear and innocence as they widened, his arms slowly dropping to his sides. "No... no, it's over and done with. No body, no crime, right? No one will find out, no one will know, and everything will be okay."

 _But it won't be. It won't be okay. It's not over, it's not done with. Face it, you're a monster. Spent your whole life putting them away, but now it's your turn. It's fun and it's thrilling and you know exactly how to cover it up - after all, you're the smartest guy here! No one stands a chance against you. Against us._

"I-I'm not a monster..." he whispered under his breath.

 _I think Catherine would disagree. Can you just imagine?! Those big blue eyes staring up at you in pure horror~_

He strained to push back thoughts of her flesh, her soft gasping lips, her widened eyes. He didn't want those images, or rather, he didn't want the feelings those images gave him. He'd broken his own heart pursuing Miss Kringle for the past year, knowing good and well she wasn't interested and didn't even remotely like him - but he'd clung on to some ridiculous naive optimistic hope that maybe she would decide to give him a chance and see all that he had to offer. Now he had a gorgeous and spritely young woman who had danced right into his life, was charming and intelligent and, low and behold, seemed to legitimately _enjoy_ his company! He wasn't going to let himself ruin this chance of genuine companionship. He'd do whatever it took to make sure she never found out his dark little secret, to make sure that he wouldn't lose her. He couldn't lose her. _Those are pretty intense feelings to have after what... one actual date?_ That was right, he'd really only been on one date with her. Their first night was a fluke and he'd chocked it up to her being friendly enough to enjoy his company since they'd both been stood up. Two nights, one date. _Is that all it takes to win you over? Haha, god you're pathetic, you realize that, right?_

Edward nearly jumped out of his skin when another voice suddenly filled the otherwise silent room. He spun around, holding his paint-spattered hammer, then clutched his chest with a gasp of relief.

"I'm so sorry, Ed!" Lee gave a quiet laugh, holding her hands up with an apologetic smile. "I didn't mean to frighten you!"

"Doctor Thompkins," he spoke, now able to chuckle at his own scare, lowering the hammer, "it's alright, I was just, uh, you know!" With an overly animated gesture, he swung his arm out over the smashed heads and paint mess. "Lost in my observations!"

"I see." She took a moment to make her own observations, finding herself rather curious. "So, what exactly are you doing...?" Crossing her arms, she drew closer to him and his work for a better look.

"Oh, uh, well it's for blood spatter. See, the heads are usually filled with thick synthetic blood - but since the department cut its budget for forensic analysis, I substitute with red paint - and by striking the head in various ways with various objects, you can observe the spatter pattern that's created and thus hopefully being able to more accurately recognize these patterns in the field."

"Ah, how interesting!" Looking from the unsmashed heads to Edward, she bit at her lip and grinned. "Could... I try one?"

His eyes widened as he stared at her for a second, before jumping back to life and quickly handing her the hammer. "Sure! Sure!" With great enthusiasm he grabbed a new head and positioned it on the table. "Yep, just uh, give it a nice little tap wherever you want!"

She lightly swung the hammer straight down against the mannequin's forehead, with just enough force to crack the surface, red paint slowly beginning to seep up through the webbed lines. "Oh god, that was terrible," she laughed, hanging her head in playful shame before perking up and readying herself for another hit. With a harder swing, she hit the same spot as before, this time shattering the forehead open and spattering a good deal of paint.

"Much better!" Edward said with a wide grin, and she returned the smile.

"Wow, that took a lot more aggression than I thought!" Looking back to how many he had already smashed, she turned back to him. "I don't see how you've done so many. I like to think I'm entirely weak but my arms are already feeling it."

"Oh, well uh. You know. Just a-"

"-way to let out your frustrations?"

Again his eyes widened like a child caught with his hand in the cookie jar, and she merely responded to his reaction with a calm, kind smile.

"It's alright, Ed. Everyone gets angry, everyone needs an outlet. And look, yours," she turned to glance again over his work, "is actually helping people."

He couldn't help but smile like a reassured puppy, and soon felt himself beaming under her kindness and wisdom. But then it struck him; was that what she was leading up to all along? Had she overheard him talking to himself? Is that why she'd come in so unexpectedly? "D-Doctor Thompkins?" His own voice surprised him, as he had spoken before even deciding what he needed to say.

"Please, Lee is fine... What is it?"

He blinked for a moment, his gaze averting to the side as he stammered out his undeveloped thoughts. "Uh, I just-ah, thought maybe I could get your advice on something." His words quickly sped up until they were practically bubbling out from his lips as he turned to face her again. "I mean, you're really nice and you're smart and you're a woman so!"

She laughed again, finding his quirkiness somewhat endearing. "Of course, Ed, what's on your mind?"

"Uh... well, I've started seeing this girl..."

"Ah, yes! Jim told me you had a gorgeous date a couple nights ago."

"Yes! But... I don't know. I'm not sure how this is uh... supposed to progress?" His overly animated hand gestures returned as he struggled to push out the right words. "I mean, I think she likes me, and I like her, but do we just keep going out on dates? Do I do something differently? Are we... are we a couple?"

Lee set the hammer down on the table with a gentle smile. "It's okay, Ed, there's really no one right way to do things in a relationship. Everyone is different. You... went after Kristen Kringle in the records annex for a long while, right? But as hard as it may have been to accept, you two just weren't the right match. Good evidence, maybe, but for the wrong crime."

As odd a metaphor as that might have been, it somehow helped the message click in his mind. Trying to get Miss Kringle to find interest in him did feel like trying to match a random piece of evidence to an unrelated crime scene.

"This girl, however, well it sounds like you two get along well enough, and she liked you enough to agree to keep seeing you, right? Sometimes you meet someone and..." Picking the hammer back up from the table, she reached out to hand it to him. "The impact matches the spatter."

He took the hammer from her, but his mind was racing elsewhere, his thoughts already a thousand miles away. Lee smiled and patted his shoulder before walking away, but he hardly noticed her leave. The idea of a sudden yet true relationship was both exciting and daunting to him, and he had no idea what lay ahead or how he should proceed... but she'd crashed into his life like a hammer to a porcelain head. When you find significant evidence at a crime scene, you develop it further - you make implications, you develop its importance, you make it a stepping stone that leads to the great truth. _Maybe that's all he needed to do_. Catherine was his crime scene, his own personal riddle... and he was determined to solve it.

* * *

 **a/n; A couple questions have come up regarding the timeline of this story in relation to the show, and I thought it would definitely be more interesting if this is all happening after Edward has committed his first murder. However, since Maroni is currently alive, it's obviously before the season finale, so this beginning fits in between the end of episode 20 and the events of episode 22... (except for the fact that Ed has already disposed of the body at this point) Hope that clears some things up! C: Also, yes there will definitely be more interactions with Catherine within the GCPD - including her and Ms. Kringle, which seems to be what everyone is most excited to see! xD**

* * *

 _Next chapter..._ **"Motive"**

Edward and Catherine come back together with a new enthusiasm for their budding relationship, though they each have a very different motive. Then what, perhaps, could Miss Kringle's motive be for stepping in?


End file.
